In the luxurious living room, Will stood up under everyone's gaze, walked to the wall, picked up a travel bag, walked over to the coffee table, and then unzipped it.
He lifted it with force and shook it upside-down, and rolls of banknotes bound with rubber bands immediately tumbled out onto the coffee table, some of which rolled onto the floor.
Everyone's breath grew slightly short, and their heartbeats swayed with the notes scattering about.
What was the purpose of being in a gang?
Not being bullied, glory, face—different people might have different answers, but there was one thing they could agree on: money!
For these people, being in a gang was no different from going to a job. Each month Will would give them a sum of money, the amount could vary.
If the gang received more money, if Will got more, then they could take a bit more—two or three hundred, or even more.